Nearly Departed (Spring Cleaning Mysteries) (21 page)

He shook his head, cutting me off before I could say Cusak
's name.

Halley got bored with the whole exchange and went to play Rock, Paper, Scissors with Martin on the stairs.

"Who?" Reed asked curiously.

"
Shirley DiNunzio. She has a bit of a thing for me," Smoke supplied. He warned me to keep my mouth shut with a single look.

"
Tom's sister?" Reed asked with a chuckle.

Smoke nodded miserably.

"I'll look into it." He turned his attention back to me. "Anyone else?"

I shook my head.

"I don't like you being here alone, Vicky."

"
She's not alone." Smoke fixed his icy blue gaze on Reed.

"
No," Reed said calmly. "She's here with someone who's considered to be a suspect in these murders."

"
What the hell are you talking about?" Smoke growled.

Martin appeared suddenly between the two men and began jamming his pointer finger into his incorporeal chest.

"According to a witness statement, a man fitting your description was seen prowling around the area the night of the murders," Reed said. "And more than one person thinks it's damn suspicious that you've managed to insinuate yourself into the clean-up job."

"
Who finds it suspicious?" Smoke demanded through clenched teeth.

Reed shook his head.

Martin waved wildly, getting my attention. He pointed at his chest and then pointed to the detective.

It wasn
't difficult to figure out what he wanted.

"
So does this mean you think Martin didn't kill his friends?" I asked.

"
That's the way it's starting to look," Reed replied.

"
But Smoke didn't do it either?" I asked aloud. My question was aimed at Martin, who shook his head.

"
No, Smoke didn't do it either," Smoke said with more than a tinge of sarcasm.

"
What didn't you do?" Halley asked, having rejoined us since she'd lost her playmate to our conversation.

Smoke
's stricken expression had me lying through my teeth in a breathless rush. "He didn't call me Vicky like I've asked."

"
Oh." She held out her hand to the space between the two living men. "Come back and play with me."

Reed looked at her questioningly,
obviously not seeing Martin slip his hand into hers, allowing her to pull him back toward the steps.

"
Imaginary friends," Smoke explained. "Or, if you prefer Ms. Spring's theory, ghostly playmates."

"
When can I get the van towed?" I asked, wanting to turn the subject away from my questionable beliefs.

"
I'm done here for now," Reed said. "I can drive you home if you'd like."

"
I've got to get the van taken care of."

"
Okay, but if you change your mind, you've got my number."

"
I'll
take her home," Smoke said.

"
I'll take a cab," I told them, before walking away and calling for a tow.

Of course getting the van towed required a flatbed
, which took longer to arrive than a regular tow truck, which was okay because I had to empty out all of the potentially hazardous materials and lug them into the frat boy house for safekeeping. To be fair, Smoke did the majority of lugging, though he did it incessantly muttering under his breath.

We
'd just finished when Detective Barbie showed up, and Martin started flashing numbers again.

"
Not again," I moaned.

"
Hey," Smoke chastised. "At least
she
doesn't suspect me of murder."

"
I don't—"

He waved me off and walked away. Lacey greeted him with a smile and a hug.

I was saved from making chitchat with the beautiful detective by the arrival of the tow truck. By the time the van was loaded, Lacey had left, but Martin was still flashing those numbers. I couldn't ask him about them though because Halley had joined us, and Smoke was leaning against his Jeep eyeing us suspiciously.

"
Are you playing a counting game?" Halley asked.

I shook my head.

"Smoke says to tell you he's taking you home."

"
Tell him—"

Shaking her head, she pressed a finger to my lips to silence me.
"If you don't let him take you home, he'll take me out to dinner."

I pried her hand away.
"And that's a bad thing?"

She nodded seriously.
"It's mac-and-cheese night. If I go out with Smoke, he'll make me eat vegetables." She screwed her face into an expression of absolute horror.

"
Okay, okay," I chuckled. "He can drive me home."

Halley flashed me an angelic smile of thanks, waved good-bye to Martin, took my hand, and led me to the Jeep.

My pleasure in saving her from the dreaded green stuff was short-lived when I saw the tension in Smoke's jaw. I had the feeling I was in for a rough ride.

After we'd dropped Halley off at her residential living home, Smoke drove to my place giving me the stony silent treatment my mom had used on me for three days straight when she found out I'd been kicked out of the junior prom because my date, Jim Kayn, Venus, her date, some kid I never saw before or after, and I had consumed half the limo's mini-bar on the way there.

Sitting in the Jeep, I was less concerned by Smoke
's treatment than I had been of my mother's.
She'd
had the power to ground me for the rest of my life. Instead of stewing over the argument with Smoke, I found myself wondering whatever happened to Jim Kayn.

My punishment for my drunken revelry had been to raise a
seeing-eye puppy. It might seem like a cute, cuddly ball of fur may not seem like much of a punishment, but my mom knew that learning this particular lesson about being responsible was just the sort of punishment I deserved. The inconvenience of his required care wreaked havoc with my social schedule. Not to mention I'd sobbed hysterically when it had been time to give Spot up.

Jim Kayn
's punishment had been worse. He'd been shipped off to military school and was never seen or heard from again.

The moment the Jeep pulled into my driveway I
ripped my seatbelt off. I'd determined that the best course of action would be to run inside, throwing a quick "thanks for the ride" over my shoulder. It was an immature reaction, but I thought it made for a pretty effective plan.

Smoke had other ideas.

I'd only cracked open my door when he reached across me to tug it back shut.

"
I'm going inside first," he said.

"
What?" Leaning away from him, I reached for my door handle again, determined to make my escape.

"
Whoever slashed your tires might have come here next. They could be inside waiting for you."

I leaned back in my seat as I realized he might be right.

"Give me your keys."

I
'll admit, I was tempted to hand them over, but instead I shook my head.

"
Seriously? You haven't caused enough problems today?"

"
I didn't cause any problems," I said and got out of the car.

A moment later Smoke was leveling his blue-eyed death glare over the roof at me.
"You encouraged my sister's delusions, you pissed off Cusak, and you accused me of being a murderer."

"
I didn't—" I began. "Maybe
you're
the cause of all the problems."

"
Me?"

"
Maybe you should be more tolerant of your sister and her…her invisible friends."

"
Don't tell me how to—"

"
And Cusak," I pushed on, "was pissed off the moment he set eyes on you. Come to think of it, he's not the only cop who can't stand you." It was a low blow, and I regretted it the moment it left my mouth.

Smoke pressed his lips together in a hard line.

I wanted to apologize, but instead I said, "And I didn't accuse you of being a murderer. I was just looking for clarification."

"
I'm glad you've clarified the situation. Now give me your goddamn keys so I can get the hell away from here."

Tired of arguing with him, I tossed him the keys.

He stalked off and let himself inside, while I leaned against the Jeep.

A few minutes later he came back out. By then my temper had cooled.

"Thank you for checking things out," I said immediately. It was a weak olive branch, but all I had.

He cocked his head to the side and slowly looked me up and down from head to toe. His considered perusal made me uncomfortable
, and I had to fight the urge to fidget like a kid waiting in line at a restroom.

"
Everything look okay?" I asked to fill the awkward silence.

A strange smile played at his lips making me wonder what he
'd found. "It's your version of okay. I wouldn't have guessed you to be the type to have such an extensive collection of lingerie."

I closed my eyes, hoping the sudden fire burning in my cheeks would lead to spontaneous human combustion.

I'd forgotten that my lacy undergarments would be strewn all over my bedroom since it was almost that time of the month. If I could, I'd kill Delia.

"
Gifts from my ex," I choked out, though I didn't understand why I felt obligated to explain a collection that I'd never liked in the first place and was normally relegated to a bottom drawer.

Hearing Smoke move toward his Jeep, I opened my eyes. Grateful that he wasn
't going to press the subject further, I said, "Thanks for the ride home."

"
I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"
You don't have to—"

"
Say eight?"

I could see the challenge in his eyes
, and I knew I'd never win this argument. "Eight sounds good."

He got in and started to pull away. Then he stopped.
"Lock your doors and call the police if anything suspicious happens."

"
Okay."

He rolled a few feet before stopping again.
"And then call me. Call the police and then call me."

He roared off without waiting for my response.

I didn't end up calling him or the police because I went on my computer to look up Juliet Rota. According to the news stories, the twenty-year-old had last been seen at the coffee shop where she worked. There'd been a massive search for her, a reward offered by her parents for any information, and a news special designed to gather the information needed to bring her home.

Her body had never been found
, which meant that the only two living souls who knew she wouldn't ever be coming home were me and Cusak.

"
I thought you were trying to figure out the frat boy thing," Delia said, materializing behind me.

"
And I thought you were going to leave my things alone. Smoke came in and they were strewn all over the bed like a tornado had ripped them out of Victoria's Secret and dumped them on my comforter."

Delia eyed a black vinyl bustier.
"Victoria's Secret doesn't carry anything that tacky."

"
That's not the point, and you know it."

"
You should wear that fancy, classy nightie." She pointed to what was no doubt the most expensive piece of clothing I owned. "Throw all this other stuff out."

"
You do remember that it's my stuff to toss around, right?"

Delia tossed her hair and changed the subject of conversation.
"Why are you reading up on some missing woman?"

"
I met her today."

"
Then I guess she's not missing."

"
She's dead."

"
I shoulda known."

"
Have you ever heard of a ghost being attached to their killer instead of the place they died?" I asked.

"
How the hell should I know? I'm not the one who goes around chatting with every Tom, Dick, and Casper."

I closed my eyes and counted to ten, reminding myself it was almost that time of the month and that engaging Delia in any kind of argument would not end well.
"She worked at that fancy-shmancy coffee shop over on Hill Street. I'm going to take a walk over and see if there's anyone there who remembers her."